


'philia' is never a good term

by orionlethargy



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Torture, Bloodplay, Erotophonophilia, Lust Murder, Murder, Other, THIS IS SUPER FUCKED UP, Torture, also dont look up what erotophonophilia is, im sorry for writing this, its sexual attraction to murder, thats all you need to know, this. is fucked., warnings dont lie fam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 20:54:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9202826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orionlethargy/pseuds/orionlethargy
Summary: Watch out if youve got a pretty face. Youll never know who wants to ruin it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i reread this and was apalled i actually WROTE this. i didnt proofread im too scared

Jons eyes fluttered open as he came to. He couldnt remember the events of the past day. He looked around weakly, still half asleep. He couldnt recognize where he was. It was too dark. He tried to move but found he was bound to a chair, each leg tied down and arms tied behind his back.

His drowsiness quickly faded and he began to panic. Something he was very prone to doing. He struggled against the ropes, his mind burning with questions. Where was he? Why was he tied up? What was gonna happen to him?

Had he been kidnapped? Was he gonna be sold for money or killed? Worse and worse scenarios ran through his head as his incessant rubbing against the ropes left him with bright red marks on his arms through his sleeves. He gave up and resorted to crying for help. There were tears in his eyes threatening to come out as he screamed for someone, anyone, to save him.

"Theres no need for all that noise" Came a voice from behind Jon. He tried to turn his head to see who it was but he was held back by the ropes. Footsteps approached him and a hand reached above his head, pulling a chain Jon hadnt realized was there. A weak lightbulb fizzled to life. The effect it gave off was like a spotlight, illuminating only him. The rest of the room was still dark.

"Who are you?" He asked who he assumed to be his captor, voice quivering. "Where are my friends? Where am I? Why did you-" he was cut off by a low "Shhh" from the man. He walked to Jons side and put a hand on his shoulder. Jon looked up and gave a suprised and terrified squeak as he saw the familiar face of Mark, smiling down at him. The sight would be welcoming were it not for the knife he held in his free hand. 

"M-Mark?" Jon questioned. "Whats going on?" Mark gave a cheerful laugh. 

"Well, you see, Jon, I have a rather..non-traditional hobby. Ive been holding off my urges to involve you in it but youre just so cute! I couldnt help myself anymore." Mark said, walking past Jon and carefully running a finger down his knife. 

"Hobby? What..what hobby could involve tying me up? And w-why do you have a knife?" Jon asked. 

Mark laughed again. "Not so much of a hobby as..well..this is awkward. Do you know what erotophonophilia is?" Mark asked. Such a big word confused Jon. Werent things ending in 'philia' usually bad? Jon didnt like where this was going at all. He shook his head.

"Ah, I wouldnt expect you to. Nevermind. Theres no point explaining it to you, youll find out soon. Very soon. Mark said. He walked over to Jon with the knife raised. Jon whimpered in fear. 

"Please, please Mark, dont h-hurt me! I n-never did anything bad to you, I dont know why youre doing this, I-I-" Jon stammered. 

"Aww, Jon, you didnt do anything wrong! Its just..youre so adorable! I couldnt stop thinking about how good youd look quivering in pain. " Mark brough the knife to Jon's cheek and ran it down the flesh slowly, applying a lot of pressure. Jon hissed in pain, the tears hed been holding finally running down his cheeks. Mark pulled the knife away as beads of blood appeared at the cut hed made and started to run down Jons face in thin lines.

"That wasnt too bad, was it?" Mark asked softly. Jon didnt answer, only sobbing. He smiled. He positioned his knife over Jons shirt sleeve and carefully cut away at it until his bare arm was exposed. He ran a finger down Jons soft skin. He was so perfect for this. It was like he had been born to be tortured and killed. 

Mark slashed cut after cut on Jons arm, each quick slash forcing a cry of pain from Jon. He pulled away after 10 marks, watching the blood run down. Jon was breathing hard from the pain. "Youre doing great. Dont cry, dear." Mark cooed softly. Jons breathing eased up a bit. 

Mark lowered his head to Jons arm and Jon felt a shiver run up his spine as he felt something wet and warm stinging his cuts. Mark ran his tongue up the smaller mans arm, tasting the metallic blood and smearing red everywhere. Jon felt queasy from the odd sensation of Marks tongue. That and the fact he was licking up his blood.

"You taste so nice. Youre such a good boy, taking this pain. Youre so good." Mark praised, licking the blood from his lips.

"Im g-good?" Jon asked softly. 

"Mhm. Such a good boy for me. Now stay still." Mark said. He messed with the ropes a bit, easing them down so Jon would be able to bend his arms. Mark put one hand on Jons upper arm, making him wince from the pressure inflicted on his cuts, and steadied the tip of the knife over the crook of Jons arm. 

"What are y-?" Jon started, but didnt get to say more as Mark plunged it into his arm with surprising force. He screamed in pain and started crying out pleas for Mark to stop. 

"M-Mar-p-plea-! S-stop! Stop!" Jon wailed. Mark payed him no attention. He pulled the knife out with a sickening wet sound and started sawing into the pre-existing wound. He pushed his arm back and forth as he cut deeper and deeper into Jons arm. He frowned as he hit bone. 

"Damn..hold on, Jon, this will just take a second." Mark promised. Jon couldnt say anything, choking on his own spit as tears and snot ran down his face. He had never felt pain like this. It was agonizing. Mark pulled the knife out again and plunged it down as hard as he could. There was a loud crack and the bone broke. Jon screamed. 

Mark gave a satisfied smile and continued cutting, moving through the rest of the arm. He cut through the last layer of muscle and half of Jons arm was gone. The pain was too much. He felt like he was going to pass out.

"Mark..why are you doing this?" Jon asked weakly. "Im your f-friend.." 

"I know you are, Jon. Its got nothing to do with that. Certain things just have to be done! Dont get too bent up over it, ok?" Mark said. Jon was silent. 

"Good. Glad you understand." Mark picked up Jons arm, which had fallen onto the floor, and placed it behind the chair. He kneeled next to Jon and started tugging his pants off.

A new wave of panic crashed over Jon. "What are you doing?" He asked panickedly. "Please dont tell me youre g-gonna-" 

Mark looked up at him quickly, shocked and rather disgusted. "Jon! I would never do anything like that to you. Youre my friend!" Mark continued to pull Jons pants down, stopping at the thigh. "See? Theyre not going past here. Youre perfectly fine." He promised. This shouldnt have made Jon feel any better but it did. When youre in horrible pain and down one arm you take any comfort you can find.

Mark cut down into Jons thigh at an angle, slicing deep into the flesh. Jon choked in pain. Mark took the knife out and repeated this on the other side until he had made a deep, odd oval shape in Jons leg. He pulled the flesh up with one hand and cut away at the muscle under it. He pulled out the chunk from Jons thigh proudly. Jon felt sick. 

His nausea wasnt helped as Mark bit a bit of meat off of the bloody chunk. He was fucking eating him. "And I thought it was just your blood that tasted good.." Mark said. Jon was fighting off the urge to throw up.   
   
Mark noticed the look on Jons face. "It isnt that bad. You should try it!" He urged, standing up and waving Jons own flesh in front of his face. Jon turned his head away from it.

"Will you take a smaller piece?" Mark asked, pulling a tiny piece away from the sliver of meat. He put it in front of Jons mouth. When he continued to turn away, Mark forced the flesh past his lips, jabbing his finger into Jons mouth. Jon gagged at the taste of blood and raw meat. He spit it out and gasped for air. 

"Hmph. Guess its an aqquired taste. You didnt have to spit at me, though.." Mark said. He picked up the saliva-covered meat, which had fallen into Jon's lap, and popped it into his mouth. Jon swallowed hard, which turned out to be a mistake as he was assaulted with the taste of blood again. He retched.

Mark started unbuttoning Jon's shirt and trailed the knife down his stomach. He pressed a bit harder and Jon cried out in pain. Mark paused before suddenly shoving it in further into his middle, making Jon scream. "D-dont push it further, I-I-" Jon choked. "You're gonna h-hit an organ."

"Thatd be a shame, wouldnt it?" Mark teased, pressing the knife a little deeper. Jon screamed again. Mark laughed, pulling the knife out. Blood poured from the deep wound. 

Mark set the knife down next to him and traced his finger down the wound he had just made. He pushed on it and Jon gave a whimper. He angled his fingers over the cut and pushed his fingertips into the wound. Jon screamed louder than he had ever before, his throat raw. The pain was just too much. He couldnt stop himself as he retched and vomited blood. Red splattered his front and dribbled down his chin as he gasped for air. Mark quickly withdrew his fingers. 

"Rude. What, did I press on your stomach or something?" Mark asked. Jon was still sputtering, coughing up red. A concern look fell over Mark's face. "Hey, you okay?" He asked, putting a hand under Jon's head and lifting his chin up. "Can you breathe?"

Jon sputtered again, looking over at Mark. "I..I can breathe." Jon didnt question Marks' concern for him even though he had just stabbed him. None of this made sense. He took any compassion he could get, grateful that Mark cared. Mark gave a content smile. 

"Good." He said. 

Mark picked up the knife again and ran it down Jon's thigh, cutting the bloody flesh. "Youre doing really well, Jon. I thought for sure you would have passed out by now. But we're running low on time, so, ah, forgive me but were gonna have to cut this short." He snickered at his joke. He raised the knife up to Jon's chest.

"Mark, p-please..I d-dont wanna die. I l-love you." Jon pleaded, fresh tears running down his face. "Please. Please please please PLEASE! I w-wont tell anyone, I wont tell Eddie, I wont tell the neighbors, this n-never happened! We c-can still live together. Please just dont kill me!" 

Mark clicked his tongue. "Hm, thats a good offer, Jon. But here's the thing. You're down an arm. How are you gonna explain that? And not only that but vomiting blood isnt exactly a good sign. Youd need hospital attention. And that just cant happen. I cant be found out. Im sorry but..you arent leaving this room." 

Mark thrusted the knife into Jons chest. Jon let out a strangled yell, spraying blood over Mark. Blood gushed from his chest. Mark left the knife in his friends chest, wiping some of the blood off his face and licking it off his fingers. Jon stared up at Mark with pleading eyes, his whole body twitching. 

"M-mark.." Jon gasped, light fading from his eyes. His head fell forwards and he stopped moving. Mark reached over and pulled the knife from Jon's chest. He admired his work for a moment, before smiling happily. He was right, Jon was perfect for this. He'd miss the little guy. But knowing his life ended at his hands gave him a thrill. He pulled the chain attached to the light and the room was engulfed in darkness.

 

"Mark?" Mark looked over his shoulder and pushed the rest of his blood-spattered purple sweater as Eduardo walked into the room. 

"Have you seen Jon anywhere? I havent seen him since last night." Eduardo said. Mark shut the lid on the washing machine, setting the cycle and listening to the pleasing hum as it turned on.

"Why are you so worried? You hate the poor guy." Mark asked. 

"It's just..he isnt in the house. I dont like it when he goes out without telling me. He always gets hurt. I hate taking care of him." Eduardo complained.

"Oh, dont worry. Hes just a little..tied up at the moment." Mark said, smiling to himself

**Author's Note:**

> im dissapointed in you for reading this


End file.
